Analysis of 75th Anniversary of Battle of Britain

With the rising of the sun we shall take to the sky
And there with "the few" we shall be remembered
We shall spit fire and a hurricane shall follow in our wake
Together we shall soar where no bird has flown
Through the slits of golden light that cut through the mornings clouds
Into the vastness of bright blue space that is free and empty
We shall dance as though we are carried freely by angels
Forever turning and spinning leaving a trail of pure white behind us
And then as if by magic we shall disappear from view
To a place where only God can see us play upon the wind above the clouds
Where we and "the few" once flew together
Before returning to our earthly shackles once more
Till such time as we are again called upon to spit fire and make hurricanes